


We won't

by pcysarcasm



Series: seho drabbles [2]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Age Difference, Bottom Oh Sehun, M/M, Secret Crush, Top Kim Joonmyun | Suho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-24
Updated: 2017-11-24
Packaged: 2019-02-06 09:57:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12815067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pcysarcasm/pseuds/pcysarcasm
Summary: Sehun falls in love with his best friend's brother.





	We won't

 

Sehun is an awkward kid. He has never really managed to make friends as a child and therefor he’s a loner, always quietly observing the people around him. He avoids conversations- avoids people in general. Not because he has an attitude and thinks he's better than anyone around him - no, he just doesn't know how to respond when people talk to him. He never finds the right words and never knows how to behave.

The truth is, Sehun is shy. He might look imitating; with his broad shoulders, long legs and sharp features, but deep inside he is just a shy, introverted kid. He gets anxious around people a lot. He doesn't want to do something wrong, doesn't want to upset anyone. So he is quiet a lot, keeps a poker face and spends most of his time inside his own mind.

His house is a few miles outside of the small town, where he goes to school. It’s a narrow building in the middle of nowhere and his place is the only house. From time to time a train passes by on the railroad tracks that run parallel to the house. Sometimes it seems to Sehun that everything is very small.

He doesn’t call for his mother when he comes into the house that day. The door bang shut, the furniture sits silently. He can hear the TV talking in his mother’s room, so he knows she’s there, dozing in the little windowless room, an addition to the house, just space enough for a bed and a dresser, a small TV and a lamp with curlicues of cigarette smoke around them.

Like every day, his mother is probably propped up against some pillow, covered by an old blanket, pilled cotton, silk edges unraveling. Tired. She works in a factory and goes to work early in the morning, while it’s still dark. 

Sehun drops his bag to the floor of the kitchen. There’s the smell of smoke, and fried eggs, and the old food in the refrigerator. Unwashed dishes in the sink. Sehun sits down at the kitchen table for a time and eats his cereal.

His mother never eats with him. She rarely leaves her room anyway. He doesn’t know whether he misses her or not, but he thinks of her as he sits there in the still kitchen. She’s always at work or locked up in her room. Whenever he wants to talk to her, she just turns to the wall and says, _Get out_ , almost dreamly. And usually, if she ever actually leaves her room and shares a meal with him, she just sits there, at the kitchen table, coldly, frowning, gathering and arranging her hair, ignoring him.

After a while, he calls for Vivi, his dog. He gets a piece of lunch meat from the refrigerator and whistles for her. He calls again, and he hears his mother’s bed creak as the dog gets down from the foot of it, where it has been curled up comfortably, sleeping.

“Vivi!”, Sehun exclaims, in a cheerful, tempting voice, and the dog noses the bedroom door open and peers out at him warily, trembling a little, sidling sheepishly as if it’s shy. But when Sehun throws the piece of meat, she catches it in midair.

Vivi is more than just a dog to him. It’s his best friend. He spends so much time with the dog, the two of them sometimes just sitting on the couch as he pets it, playing quietly until it struggles to get away.

 „Sehun!” his mother screams as ViVi yelps. “Quit playing with that damn dog! I hope she bites you someday!“

 

* * *

 

Woojin is Sehun’s only friend- well, at least in his book. Woojin teases him all the time. It isn’t mean-spirited, Sehun doesn’t think so. Just something his friend does to amuse himself.

They are as different from each other as two people can be, and the main thing that they have in common is that neither of them quite fit into school. The boy is hyperactive and loud, and he drags Sehun to comic book conventions and other nerdy events. Sehun suspects it's because Woojin's other friends don't want to accompany him and he has no one else to go with, but he’s not quite sure.

When Woojin invites him over for the first time Sehun is surprised but doesn't object. Woojin’s TV is huge and they have the latest playstation in the living room, right in front of a huge couch. Sehun leans back on it, settling more deeply and supposes that he’s fairly content.

Woojin's family is nice, his mother is overly affectionate and hyper like her son and his father makes a lot of dad jokes. All in all, Sehun enjoys spending time at Woojin's place. They play video games in the living room, eat crisps and drink coca cola.

And so, Sehun gets into the habit of stopping by their place after school, staying until dinner or beyond, staying until well past his bedtime. If his mother asks about his whereabouts, he tells her that he had been babysitting for Woojin’s two-year-old brother, a blatant lie, since Woonjin only has one brother, and he’s thirty and works somewhere in China. Hong Kong, if Sehun remembers correctly. It doesn’t matter. Sehun’s mother is pleased to have him elsewhere anyway.

Sehun is happy at Woojin’s place. It’s comfortable and exciting, a world he connects vaguely in his mind with families he has seen in TV shows. He loves the house in its entirety but his favourite thing is a huge fish tank in Woojin’s room - the home of tons of small little fishes.

He’s sitting near the fish tank on that day, staring at the little underwater world, mesmerized by the way the little fishes are swimming around. He’s fifteen. But he’s different from most fifteen-year-olds. People at school always tell him so. They say he’s like an adult—an old man, someone once said, and laughed.

And maybe that’s true, maybe he’s unusually mature for his age. There’s an aura about him, Woojin’s mother once said, though she couldn’t put her finger on it. And Sehun has to agree with her, now that he’s thinking of it.

When his classmate had started to make fun of him, he had made a list of things he could improve of himself. He had straightened his stoop and squared his shoulders when he walked, had learned to look people in the eye when they spoke to him. Smiling. Easy stuff. 

And eventually the jokes had stopped, and the people had started to just ignore him, to see him as nothing more than a mere stranger; a ghost; an ordinary, quiet boy. Maybe that’s even worse than getting bullied, Sehun thinks, but isn’t sure.

 

* * *

 

Over the holidays Woojin's brother comes to visit. Woojin calls him a workaholic. He lives far away and rarely has time for his family, he tells Sehun. And Sehun listens, running his tongue over his dry lips, trying to imagine how it would be to have a brother who tries to call at least once a month, and sends enough money for him to buy the latest video games. 

“He’s rich, you know,” Woojin brags, his eyes sparkling with something that Sehun identfies as proudness. “He has so many houses and flats all over the country. I think I could visit any place in Asia and stay at one of his places.”

Sehun tries to imagine how those places could look like, but all he can picture is a manager’s office and a man with a look of perpetual and almost painful delight, with a neatly arranged desk; a memo pad; pink paper clips; his hands folded restfully over each other.

It doesn’t sound exciting to him, if he’s honest with himself, not really. But he smiles anyway. There’s no use in making Woojin upset about this.

 

* * *

 

 

It’s a rainy friday when Sehun meets him for the first time. He has been spending most of his after-school time at the Kim’s by that point, sometimes sleeping over on a Friday or Saturday night in a sleeping bag on the floor of Woojin’s room.

It’s a late evening in September, windy and cozy, and the trees are brightly coloured. With the aim of fetching himself something to drink, Sehun walks into the kitchen. There, on the counter, sits a man he has never seen before - alone between paper sheets and used coffee mugs.

He looks up, holds eye contact with Sehun for a few seconds, gives him a smile and nods before turning his attention back to his papers. It takes Sehun approximately 10 seconds to figure out who this man is.It’s the loose tie around the man’s neck, and those black, heavy eyebrows, Woojin’s very own, and Woojin father’s long, firm-jawed face. There’s also a certain kind of heavy, faraway frown that reminds Sehun of when his mother, lying on her bed, listens to records. 

This man must be Woojin’s brother, Sehun thinks. And it’s a surprise, to say the least. He has expected a tall business man, old and boring, talking about share prices and politics- both things Sehun isn't enthusiastic about, but this man seems nothing like the grey, old man of his imagination. 

Around them, the home is silent. Sehun can hear the hum of the fish tank’s bubbler from upstairs, the insistent awakening chirp of sparrows nested in the garden’s single tree. Woojin must be waiting for him in his room and he should probably get going but he just quite can’t yet. There’s something holding him there, in front of the kitchen ile, staring at this stranger.

The man notes something down, scratches another thing and then notices that Sehun is still observing him expectantly.

“You alright, buddy?” the man asks.

„Uh-huh,” Sehun replies. Nods. Opens the fridge, pours him a glass of milk - his hands are shaking, why are they shaking? - and empties it with one, quick gulp.

The man regards him steadily for a moment, his expression hooded. Then he smiles. “You’re the kid Woojin is always talking about, aren’t you?” he says. Then: “What was your name again? Dohyun?”

Sehun nods. The room suddenly feels a few degrees warmer. He puts the milk back into the fridge, and turns. “Sehun,” he mumbles and the man smiles, and his eyes turn kind.

“Ah, Sehun,” he says. “Of course. Woojin is upstairs, I think. Why don’t you go up and look for him?” His smile is polite, but it carries a warmth that makes Sehun’s heart skip a beat.

“Yeah,” he mutters and quickly bows.

 

* * *

 

It’s about 4 in the afternoon, Sunday, as he’s walking home, and he can remember the polite smile which Woojin’s brother had given to him the day before as he hurries through the underpass with its walls of wet cement, past the little grocery store with its windows pasted over with newspaper, past the grade school, toward the street he lives on. His stomach feels fluttery, and he’s somewhat infected by the nervousness that the man had given to him with his long, slow look, there in the kitchen last night. His heart is still light and quick and hollow in its beating.

Here is his house. Curtains drawn. The door with its molding.

Inside, his mother is asleep on the couch. Her face fierce and pressed against the arm of the couch, frowning in her dreams. Her eyes shift underneath their lids as Sehun tucks the blanket over her exposed foot.

He loves her. He loves his dog, who is still asleep in the bedroom. He loves Woojin and his parents, all his friends, his family. He doesn’t want another life. He’s never been happier.

 

* * *

 

One would never guess Kim Junmyeon is a grown man of thirty-two. His hair curls in slick commas at his forehead, he has flawless, pale skin and his face is basically glowing of life, his cheeks a soft pink. He is small, barely reaching Sehun's chest, with wide hips and thick thighs. If not for his tight suit, his glasses and the tie he occasionally wears - Sehun would have thought he’s in his early 20s.

More than a week has passed since he and Woojin’s brother officially met, and still Sehun hasn’t managed to have a decent conversation with him. He thinks about it. He thinks about it all the time, in fact. In the morning, dragging the toothbrush over his teeth, tasting the sweet flavour of the paste, he stares into the mirror. _Junmyeon_ , he thinks, _who are you? What are you doing?_

 _Junmyeon_ , he thinks. _I need to tell you something._

And yet he can’t think of what would come next. He wants to find the movie of the moments, to see each day as a series of carefully framed scenes, but instead there’s only a blank screen. He closes his eyes briefly, spits the liquid into the sink and gets ready for school.

 

* * *

 

Sehun guesses what kind of a man Junmyeon is. Woojin has told him little things—about his job, and his childhood, and so on— and so far everything sounds very… impressive. Sehun has overheard conversations as well, things that Woojin or his parents had said in passing. Graduated from high school with exceptionally good grades, Junmyeon had got into one of the best colleges in the country and then got a very well-paid job. It seems as if Junmyeon excelled at everything he has ever tried.

It’s not enough information for Sehun though, who has found himself to wonder more and more about this mysterious man. Then, one week later, Sehun joins them for dinner and Junmyeon does so too. They sit eat and chat. And it’s nice, it really is. But they don’t really talk. Unlike his family, Junmyeon is quiet like Sehun. He carries his laptop, papers and books with him wherever he goes, and keeps his mind occupied with work.

At dinner Junmyeon listens, laughs at the right times, gives brotherly advice to Woojin and shows interest not only towards his family members but also towards Sehun. He grants him with the same warm smiles, asks him how he's doing in school and offers help with homework. But that’s it. It almost seems impossible to get close to that man, Sehun thinks. So far Junmyeon has shown no inclination to exchange any personal information. It will take some time, perhaps. They need to establish some common ground, some shared interests, and Sehun is willing to wait for those to emerge.

Later, curled up in his sleeping bag, Sehun thinks it would be good if Junmyeon were his father. They would have a steady and quiet relationship, Sehun imagines. They wouldn’t be close, but he would never have to feel unloved. Junmyeon would be the kind of father who hovered, awkwardly tender, at the margin of a son’s life, attentive and formal. He would be the kind of father who lingers for a moment before he turns off the light at bedtime, the kind who closes his eyelids lightly as he kisses his child’s forehead, the kind who would clear his throat often and grow teary-eyed. It would be –  _what? –_  lasting, Sehun thinks.

"Do you always work?" he asks the man one day, evidently absorbed in studying the pattern of his tea cup.

The two of them are sitting in the living room of the little white house, with its red trim and shaded windows, with its neat lawn and sidewalk lined with dark petunias. Woojin is in the next room, playing the latest video game, probably shouting at the screen. Sehun really can't stand him like that. The two of them sit at the table and drink tea and stare out at the yard. 

Junmyeon lifts his cup and drinks deeply, then sets it down with a sigh. "Depends on what you consider as work."

Sehun watches the Adam’s apple bob in Junmyeon's throat as he swallows. He thinks about it, let's the man's words run through his head. All he can think of are high schoolers working part time for extra cash and feeling self-conscious, he decides to drop the topic.

"Do you enjoy moving around all the time?" he asks, wincing inwardly. Why couldn't he come up with anything interesting to say? 

Junmyeon shrugs. "Sure, of course I do." A small, bitter smile touches the corner of his mouth. One, that makes Sehun question if Junmyeon enjoys his life overseas and why he wouldn't choose a job here instead. It sounds scary to live so far from home, from everything familiar. 

„It was brave of you, to set out like that on your own,” he says, not wanting to ask anymore questions to avoid coming off as invasive and noisy.

Their eyes meet for a moment, and an electric, rippling sensation slides over Sehun’s skin. He feels it rise, tingling in his hair, and he's actually dazed. It's that weird feeling he has had before. An aura, Sehun thinks, something like a hallucination. Invisible waves emanating from the person he's looking at.

But the man doesn't seem to notice anything. He frowns a little and, then lowers his head deliberately to the newspaper he's reading. “You’d never been to a city or anything before?” he asks, turning to the next page.

“Not exactly,” Sehun says. “My mother and I lived in different parts of the country when I was really little, but I don’t really remember it." Then, after a small pause:" How many different places have you lived in your life?" 

Junmyeon's eyes, such a deep shade of brown they appear black, narrow slightly as he focuses on Sehun. "If you spend one night somewhere, do you live there? What about four nights? Or a whole week?" he asks. 

Sehun pauses to think. He notices how the elder is staring at him, absorbing everything, and his cheeks turn blood-hot beneath this scrutiny. Junmyeon appears to be a man full of purpose and meaning. He has hidden motivations, and complexities, and his life seems to be filled with importance. Various things.

The problem with his own life, Sehun thinks, is that he hasn't been born significant. He's just an run-of-the-mill person whose life is empty. No special ideas, memories, experiences. He has no connection to the major world of human endeavor - no relationship to politics, or sociology, or economics, or the great movements of his time. He feels as if he were a nothing person, not someone who is really wanted, but only someone who's there, taking up space. 

“If you unpack all your things," he concludes, and is reminded again that he's not particularly bright or appealing.

Junmyeon counts nine places he had been living at, then he looses track. He can't remember the names of most of the cities and places. Mostly, he remembers the inside of cars, trains and airplanes before turning back to page 12 of his newspaper. 

Sehun stares steadily into his tea, tension coiling in his muscles, thinking about how his mother once stood over his desk, not even disapproving but simply dismissing him, mildly, as a mediocre kid who wasn’t worth her time. He starts to chew on his lips, and tries to think of something to talk about.

"What's your favorite place so far?" he asks eventually.

"Hm, I'm not sure," Junmyeon replies, and thinks. When he looks up, his attention remains on Sehun for a moment too long, as if he's fascinated by something he sees in the younger boy's face.  

"Shouldn't it be China? After all you live there now, right?" Sehun asks, his face heating up.

"China," Junmyeon sighs, and rests his cheek on his hand, which is balled into a sharp-knuckled fist.

"You don't like it?" Sehun asks and gives a curious glance.

“That’s not it..." the elder replies, letting out a serrated breath. "It's different. Life is different there, that's all."

“How so?” Sehun asks. He can’t imagine a world outside of Korea, especially not a life in China. It’s so alien to him, the simple imagination of him living there almost insane. But still he is intrigued by it, the thought of leaving the small town behind, and exploring new cultures as exciting as enticing.  

Junmyeon stares at him intently, a frown disturbing the smooth plane of his forehead and he sits there for a moment, silent. In his eyes, Sehun thinks to see an utter blackness of nighttime roads, an unraveling space, emptiness. 

"Everything is so loud, so full of color and energy but at the same time it's empty,” Junmyeon says. “You are surrounded by thousands of people wherever you go but you never get close to them. No matter how long you live there, you somehow stay a mere visiter -a stranger; anonymous and free."

A smile curves at his lips as he begins to describe his hometown in China, a economically booming city, to which many businessmen and their families come from all parts of China to work. He describes skyscrapers higher than any building Sehun has ever seen in his life and streets swarmed by masses of people, all running into different directions. Sehun can almost see it in front of his own eyes - there are the cities, one after the other, each with their huge buildings and masses of people. There are the flatlands and villages that surround these cities— trees and small houses; wide expanses of rice, or corn, or sunflowers, with their heads turned east toward the sun. And there are the brightly colored clouds bunching up along the horizon and the pale sky. 

Imagining all this, Sehun stares into Junmyeon's warm eyes, and he sees his father, and the memories come flooding back like a river insusceptible to even the harshest constructs. He’s ten, dressed in his school uniform, brown blazer, stripes, pleated pants- his father is sitting in his favourite armchair, telling him stories, stroking his back, his hair, his cheek, as Sehun gazes into his father’s eyes totally immersed into the worlds that he creates. He sees himself running towards him, arms outstretched, awaiting his familiar embrace. He sees his father tucking him into bed, kissing him on the forehead. He sees himself falling asleep with him half beside, half on top of him. He remembers feeling safe. Loved. 

It's just a fleeting memory. But his dead father remains as a presence, a feeling, a sound track full of dissonance in the back of Sehun's mind.

"Do you ever miss living in Korea?" he asks Junmyeon and the man shrugs and explains that he appreciates the time he gets to spend with his family every year and that he of course misses them, and the food, but that he's contend with his life in China. Of course, sometimes he does feel home-sick, Junmyeon admits, but it's only natural. 

Being in Korea doesn’t only mean meeting his family for Junmyeon, that’s clear to Sehun now. The enormous pressure under which the elder usually is, disappears for the few weeks he’s far away from his job, and all the things he normally has to worry about seem trivial, nearly inconsequential.

 

* * *

 

Sehun decides that he likes Junmyeon.

The elder cares for everyone around him, he fixes problems and makes the world seem like a brighter, friendlier place. He repairs all kinds of things- Sehun's bike, the lawn mower, Woojins playstation and he even helps them to bake cookies for a school project and looks over his family's finances regularly. There seems to be no issue too big for the man. Nothing seems to throw him off balance. He’s experienced, intelligent and capable of almost everything and Sehun sometimes wishes he had a brother like that too, could have the older man around him all the time, hug him like Woojin does and receive a deeper affection, one that can only be shared between brothers.

It's the sick feeling in his stomach when Woojin's parents ask how Junmyeon's girlfriend is doing and if they are going to marry soon, that bothers Sehun the most. It's the flutter of his chest and the heat in his cheeks when Junmyeon talks about exotic countries, the strangest traditions, books, music and experiences he has made, that Sehun desperately wants to be gone.

The thing is, Sehun doesn't feel awkward and anxious around the elder. Not like he does when it comes to other people. When he's uncertain or scared or confused, Junmyeon sets him at ease. Sehun goes to him for advice, even tells him about his problems with socializing and anxiety. And Junmyeon listens, drags a comforting hand over Sehun's back and reassures him that he's not alone with his feelings, that many people go through similar things and it helps.

* * *

 

One day, Woojin decides it’s time for a trip to the beach, and his elder brother ends up driving them. While Woojin is swimming, Sehun sits in the sand, his back presents to the shore, so that he can keep an eye on the waves that creep towards him. He doesn’t like water,- or swimming for that matter.

Junmyeon waves cheerfully, and drops down next to him. His pink cheeks are sprinkled with grains of sand and his hair has turned dark from the both the sea and the sweat.

“Can you swim?” Junmyeon asks. There’s nothing harsh or unkind in his voice. Sehun doesn’t reply but the elder understands.

Hand in hand they walk into the sea, the rhythmic waves reaching Junmyeon’s waist and barely touching Sehun’s hips. He clings like crazy onto the shorter man’s hand. It means _Don’t let me go_ and _I trust you_. Junmyeon draws him further out into the waves, until the water is too deep for Sehun to stand and he throws his arms around the elder’s neck.

They drift there in the rise and fall of the waves and it’s oddly calming, there’s nothing else but him and Junmyeon and the water surrounding them. They don’t speak, but still they are connected.

They are their own little island.

When they go back to the beach, the hot sand burns their feet and they rescue themselves onto their towles. Sehun lies on his stomach, so he can watch Junmyeon.

He reads a book, humming a sweet, melodic tune. He smiles at Sehun briefly when he notices him staring, then proceeds to read. His cheeks are rosy from swimming, or the sun, but probably both.

Sehun thinks he’s the most beautiful thing he has ever seen.

 

* * *

 

 

Something unexpected happens. Sehun is part of the soccer team this year. His mother is proud, and he thinks it’s the only thing that matters,- after all, there aren’t a lot of things she can be proud of. He doesn’t particularly like soccer but he’s rather good at it, even though he suspects his physique is the only reason he got into the team.

Today, he’s late as always and the trainer tells him to forget all the angry messages he has left earlier. “Heat of the moment, kiddo,” he explains and put his his arm around Sehun’s broad shoulders. “Just make sure to win today.”

“Sehun, where’s your girlfriend at?” Kook asks, his smile odd and somehow fake. “Isn’t she coming to cheer you on?”

Sehun stiffens for a moment, then shrugs. Kook and some other player start laughing, and the sound, echoing, makes Sehun uncomfortable.

The trainer gives him a quick slap. “Fifteen minutes, boys!”  he announces and leaves the room.

Kook unbuttons his shirt and kicks his shoes under the bench. “Is she up in the stands already? Or is she not here today?”

Not sure what to do, Sehun just keeps his eyes on his clothes, quickly dressing himself.

“Is she at home?” Kook asks, squirting, glaring.

A guilty, hollow feeling creeps over Sehun and he turns, and steps out of the stadium. There’s music playing in the stands, metallic and loud over the speakers, and he can see the crowd above settling into place.

He sees him.

 _Junmyeon_.

Right next to Woojin, who carries a gigantic ‘Sehun’ banner. When Sehun waves at him, he nods back. There’s no girl next to him, simply because Sehun doesn’t have a girlfriend. Never had one. Probably never will.

He could have a girlfriend if he wanted one. There’s Lee Jooyeon from year 12 for example who is absolutely crazy about him, declaring to everyone that she loves him. Sehun doesn’t really know what started it and why she feels this way though.

It’s kind of bothersome to attract so much attention. Sehun isn’t used to it, after all he’s the quiet, shy kid but since puberty hit him hard, more and more girls seem to be interested in him, fare more than he would like. Whenever Jooyeon see’s him on the street or in school she waves at him and gives him a big, fat smile. She follows him around, sits next to him in class and even bothers him at lunch.

“I have to study,” Sehun replies when she walks home with him, giving the thumbs up to her friends as they pass by in the bus. She tries to take his hand but he quickly snatches it behind his back.

“Can’t we go somewhere? Maybe eat ice cream?”

“I have to study,” Sehun says again.

“Oh, but we can study together! Come to my house.”

“No. I study alone.”

A brief silence follows.

“Sehun, look.. I wanted to give you something.” She makes him stop and fumbles in her backpack until she finds a pink teddy bear with a heart stitched to his chest. She holds it out to him. “Here, it’s for you.”

Sehun takes it.

“Sehun has a girlfriend!” shout some boys from the windows of the second school bus.

"Thank you,” he says and turns, making his way home.

Sehun doesn’t like girls yet. He’s old enough though, his mother reminds him of that all the time, explaining to him how important marriage and children are. Sehun really doesn’t know when he will start to like girls like all the other boys do. Maybe there’s something wrong with him, he thinks, staring at himself in the the bathroom mirror.

Maybe it can’t be fixed.

 

* * *

 

Sehun loves when Junmyeon draws. The elder doesn't have a studio or anything but when the weather is good he goes outside, picks out one of the snaps he shot on his vacations overseas, clips it to his easel, and paints.

One afternoon, Sehun gathers enough confidence, walks outside and flops down beside Junmyeon. He attempts to position himself so he appears unobtrusive yet not pathetic, which is a difficult balance.

The leaves shimmer gold and orange against the blue sky, and the sun burns unobstructed overhead, teasing them with a false sense of warmth.

He tries to sit close, but not too close. Just close enough to imagine he could smell Junmyeon’s familiar scent, to feel the warmth emanating from his body. Sehun wants to look at him, at his pink, soft lips, his warm eyes, his thin nose, his sharp cheekbones,- instead, he looks down.

The elder’s untucked shirt hangs loosely around his waist. Sehun doesn’t dare to touch him, but he want’s,- _oh_ how much he wants, and if he could only reach out, and hold onto his shirt. But he can’t.

“Can you draw me?” he finally manages to ask.

Junmyeon turns to him, his expression bright and uncomplicated. He stares at Sehun with a concentrated expression for several seconds.

“Sure.”

Junmyeon draws, and Sehun sits in front of him, still and completely attentive to the man’s every move. He’s almost afraid to move or to say something that might distract Junmyeon from his work, but the rest of his expression is pure adoration.

Sehun loves when Junmyeon draws. It's one of the only times when Junmyeon talks to Sehun about his feelings, worries and dreams. The words always come out soft and somehow heavy when he's drawing, not sad- weary maybe, and Sehun feels closer to the man this way. Junmyeon gets this look in his eye like he's transcended the garden, the neighborhood, the world. He tells Sehun about his life in China, about the people he works with, the people he meets in bars and clubs.

He tells Sehun about his time in college, how he wanted to pursue art and dropout of school. Runaway maybe, he says with a sad smile and something else lingering in the depths of his eyes.

Sehun imagines a younger Junmyeon who spends all his time with working on oil paintings, watercolors, pen-and-ink sketches, clay and wire sculptures, and wood blocks. He tries to imagine Junmyeon sitting in his room, at a cafe or a park, creating dozens of variations and studies of the same ideas and dreams. He wishes he could go back in time and talk to that boy, maybe not be seen as the younger brother’s friend.

“It must be hard for you to imagine me like that,” Junmyeon laughs quietly.

“No, actually it is pretty easy,”  Sehun tells him, and sees the joy it brings to the man's face. “I wish I could… meet you back then, and somehow... I don’t know.”

Junmyeon puffs out a laugh. “I was more fun back then, not so boring and old.”

Sehun closes his eyes, and shakes his head.

“No, that’s not it..” he mumbles. “You’re not boring.”

Junmyeon looks up, and tilts his head slightly. A small smile is playing at his lips.

“But I’m old, aren’t I? And I wear suits all the time,” he asks.

Sehun shrugs, and wants to laugh. It’s a senseless urge, bubbling up in his chest.

“So what? Lot’s of people wear suits.”

“I work a lot. I’m a businessman, you know.”

“Now you just sound like you want to brag.” Sehun rolls his eyes.

Junmyeon looks serious for a second, his eyes hopeful maybe- Sehun isn’t sure if he just wants to see it or if it’s really there.

“Don’t tell me you wouldn’t prefer the nerdy artist Junmyeon over _this_ ,” the elder chuckles and points at his chest.

“I like _this_ ,” Sehun tells him, soft, reverent. But he thinks Junmyeon understands.

They fall silent again. 

While drawing, Junmyeon stops a few times, looks up, swallows harshly and then looks down again. Sehun’s hands are suddenly sweaty, his heart beat thumping like a nervous bird inside of his chest as he struggles to hold still, unable to mask his nervousness.

When Junmyeon hesitantly reaches out to stroke through his golden locks, slow and intimate, Sehun forgets to breathe. The tingly feeling in his stomach expands, travels all the way from his belly to his fingers and toes.

Junmyeon looks at him now with that look he sometimes has, with the little fold of skin that puckers up between his eyes.

“You should get inside and play some more with Woojin,” he mutters, pointing vaguely at the front door. There’s such a massive mix of emotions in his face that Sehun can’t decipher what the man is feeling and how he’s meant to react, so he just stands up and does as told.

 

* * *

 

 

Sehun notices that Junmyeon's spends most of his life in solitude. The elder doesn't like to show it, after all he is the one who fixes problems, who cares about others,- not the one who is lonely and needs someone. But Sehun notices the loneliness in his voice when he talks about all his adventures anyway, the way the sadness lingers in his eyes, the bittersweetness of his smiles. 

Junmyeon starts to asks questions about him. He asks about his grades, his hobbies, what book he is reading at the moment, if he has a favorite band and what he thinks about this or that. Whenever Sehun mentions the latest manga or a movie he’s obsessing over, Junmyeon remembers and asks him more about it and once Sehun even catches the man reading the first _tokyo ghoul_ chapter on his phone.

Sehun doesn't want to lose it. Doesn't want to lose Junmyeon. Sometimes he wonders if the elder looks at him like he looks at Woojin; if he is nothing more but a young brother to Junmyeon. There is this sick feeling in his stomach again and he ignores the thought.

Sometimes he wants to confess, but he never actually does. He wants to though, but what if Junmyeon doesn’t believe him? Or even worse, dismisses it as unimportant.

Sehun starts to study more. He gets better at math, science and even english. He reads the books that Junmyeon recommends him, tries to bring it up when the elder is around, hoping he might sound more intelligent than he is, maybe older too,- maybe like someone Junmyeon would like to be friends with.

Suddenly homework is his favorite thing to do. He even asks his teachers for extra work if he doesn't get any or not enough. His teachers are proud and happy to see that he has finally found motivation to study but little do they know Sehun's real intentions.

Junmyeon is always busy, even when Sehun comes to visit Woojin. He usually stays in his room and works, reads or makes phone calls and Sehun can't just invite the elder to play some shooter on Woojin's playstation. The only way to get Junmyeon to hang out with him is homework.

He really tries his best. He really does. But whenever Junmyeon speaks with his soft voice, he loses track of time and can only stare at the elder. It's weird. One minute he's listening to him, and the next he's completely tuned out, focused on Junmyeon's lips.

Then when Junmyeon looks up and asks if Sehun understands everything, he nods in reply, and it gets all awkward and horrible. Junmyeon always double checks and asks Sehun questions to make sure he really understands everything, and of course he isn't able to answer any of Junmyeon’s questions correctly.

Junmyeon probably thinks he doesn't listen or isn't motivated enough,- or simply stupid. The elder doesn't get frustrated though and instead just tries to explain it again, much too Sehun's relief.

* * *

 

One weekend though Sehun get’s to see Junmyeon for longer than just a few hours. Woojin’s parents are throwing a party and Junmyeon is babysitting the younger children, while the other adults are in the kitchen and the living room, drinking wine and eating cake.

Sehun is amazed at Junmyeon’s kindness. He doesn’t know if the man has children or was ever married but the way he strokes the children’s heads,takes them by the hand, and lifts them onto his hip has something so natural, it seems as if they were his own children. It's effortless.

While watching the man play with the children, Sehun also notices the faint bags under Junmyeon's eyes, and light redness in his cheeks, probably due to the endless hours in front of his computer, always working hard and restlessly. He wants to hug him, wants to force him to rest and maybe even quit his job. He wants this all the time,- a happy Kim Junmyeon, one that plays with children and laughs freely, one that isn’t stressed out and lonely.

Junmyeon leaves in the third week of summer break. Sehun doesn't get to say goodbye. When he visits Woojin over the weekend he expects the elder to be there and for a second he gets angry and clenches his teeth, his knuckles white. There's _something_ else - something way more powerful - underneath the anger, but it disappears as Woojin presses a piece of paper in his palm.

It's a short letter, nothing more than a "I'm sorry that I wasn't able to say goodbye to you personally. Do well in school and don't forget to take care of your health too, Sehunnie" but he keeps it in his pocket for the rest of the week, reading it at every peaceful moment.

Even though Junmyeon is gone, he has never really left Sehun. He sees him in the crowd of a concert, recognizes his face in the clouds, or finds it in the shadows of the night. Junmyeon gives Sehun his number when they meet again at Christmas. The months without the elder had been horrible, Sehun had thought about him every waking hour, wondering what he was doing, if he was alright, yearning to hear Junmyeon's voice, to talk to him and to look into his clear, blue eyes. Now he has a phone number that he can message whenever he wants to- even call if he feels particularly brave.

At first it's a bit awkward because Sehun doesn't know how to text and start a conversation smoothly. After awhile they find a routine; Sehun always sends pictures- of his homework, his breakfast, his new shoes, his sleepy face in the morning, and Junmyeon replies with motivational speeches and lifts Sehun's mood with dumb jokes.

It's rare that he sends a picture, but when he does, it's usually one of himself, standing in front of a huge building, museum or other tourist attraction. Sehun prints them out and hangs them up his wall, telling himself that's something totally normal to do and nothing to worry about, not even in the slightest. (He doesn’t let his friends come visit him again though, there’s literally no way he could come up with a good excuse for all those pictures on his wall.)

When Junmyeon visits over the summer holidays, Sehun is excited. Writing to Junmyeon isn’t the same as seeing his face as he talks, laughs or listens. Hearing back from him is not the same as hearing his warm voice.

Woojin and him hold a huge welcome sign as they wait for the elder to arrive at the airport. He waits patiently until it's his turn to hug.

The man smells like heaven, and Sehun has to slightly lean down so he can brush his nose into the dark curls, and his head swims in the scent that is Junmyeon. He is so happy to finally hold Junmyeon that he gently lifts him off the ground.

"Sehunnie," the elder chuckles, and his breath tingles Sehun's nape. "I missed you too."

Sehun is silent the whole car ride home. He stares outside the window; a desperate attempt to hide his red cheeks.

 

* * *

 

He can't sleep that night. Again and again he thinks of the man, wishing he could be close to him, feel his warmth, his soft skin, drag his fingers over the muscles on his chest, his biceps, his strong shoulders, and kiss him there too, onto his collarbones, up to his neck, onto his ears and his soft, puffy cheeks. He wants to hear him giggle, wants to feel his breath on his skin and his tongue in his mouth.

When he thinks about Junmyeon like that, his belly gets all tight and warm and blood rushes into the area between his legs. It almost scares him. Confused and disbelieving, he takes the thing between his fingers like a cigarette, unsure what to do next. He grips it and shudders. He can imagine how Junmyeon’s fingers would feel like. He squeezes it, bends it. Feels sudden volts of tingly hotness.

What if Junmyeon would be here right now? Sehun can almost taste his sweat on his tongue, the sweet scent of the man, and the thing in his hand twitches. A gruff groan escapes him. Still holding it, he closes his eyes and let’s his mind wander.

Plump, red lips. Sparkling, blue eyes. Long, thin fingers. Sehun tightens his grip and starts to pump himself cautiously. A slow, steady rhythm.

“Junmyeon." A breathy whine escapes him.

He keeps his eyes closed and holds Junmyeon there, here, right with him. He sips air through his teeth, his legs shudder, his toes curl as he cums.

Eventually Sehun has to admit to himself that what he’s feeling for Junmyeon is not platonic.

Sehun is scared. Scared because he might be gay and he has no idea what to do. How should he ever talk to anyone about this? About how much he wants Junmyeon to be inside of him, how much he wants to kiss him, to hold his hands and to call him boyfriend.

It's not possible, Sehun knows. He has heard of gay couples before, but they aren't common in Korea. His parents expect him to bring a girlfriend home, to marry and get children and he knows it's the same for Junmyeon's parents,- besides, the man is obviously straight and wants all of this himself.

Whatever Sehun could give, no matter how much he reads, studies,- he can never be a woman. Never give children, never be the loving wife that Korea's society wants for Junmyeon.

He lets it go. Has to. Doesn’t want to.

It isn't as easy as he expects it to be. His grades drop again and he spends a lot of time alone in his room, reading a manga or playing some game on his phone. It's not his style to ignore someone but he tells Woojin he doesn't have time to meet up and avoids him at school. He feels odd. Out of sorts. Disconnected from everything around him.

When he sees Junmyeon the next time it's weird. He's out with his mom, grocery shopping when he spots the elder. He's staring down at a can of beans, his brows furrowed and a concentrated look on his face. Sehun's heart makes a few jumps but he plays it cool, not trying to attract attention. Last thing he wants is his mother and Junmyeon to meet.

He continues to stay in front of the milk, while his mother is already gone further into the shop, now having a conversation with a neighbor at the meat counter. He follows Junmyeon for a while, hides behind corners and people like a spy but doesn't dare to approach. At the end Junmyeon leaves before his mother is finished with shopping and Sehun feels oddly disappointed.

When he gets home he decides it's time to finally do something. But that's easier said than done and he spends approximately three hours staring at his phone screen before he throws it away and buries his head beneath his blanket.

 

* * *

 

The Kim's go on a weekend trip and Sehun is invited. He has never climbed a mountain before in his life and so he ends up not really being dressed for hiking. He's wearing converse, a hoodie and his blue jeans. No one but Junmyeon seems to notice, and he gives him a worried look.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asks and even though Sehun nods, the worried look on Junmyeon's face stays. They take a water bottle, sandwiches and their phones with them, and leave everything else in the car.

The trails are largely clear. Every now and then they pass another hiker on his or her way down, and they nod or say hello. Sehun is concentrated on walking, his leg muscles are already sore, and his breath shifts into more challenging air. Junmyeon walks slower, and they continue to walk next to each other like that, both silent and lost in their own heads.

After a while Sehun notices how Junmyeon's shoulders drop, how his usually tense muscles relax and how he visibly calms, his eyes darted to the trees, the sky and occasionally drifting to Sehun. He doesn't look like the hard working businessman right now, nor like the responsible brother,- he's just Junmyeon, his features soft, his smile wide and real and his eyes a clear blue.

Sehun thinks of Junmyeon's silly jokes, about how messy he is and the dumb stuff he often stays and smiles, his cheeks suddenly hot. He stumbles, almost falls over and Junmyeon takes his hand, holds it firmly and doesn't let go, even when Sehun finds his balance.

Junmyeon holds his hand until they reach the top, and it's awkward because their hands are sweaty and Sehun keeps falling over his own feet but it's also wonderful. Junmyeon is touching him with his warm, soft, compelling, nerve-racking, beautiful fingers. They talk as if none of this is happening, as if they aren't holding hands, and Sehun pretends he can't feel life pulse through the spots where he is touching the elder.

Once they actually reach the top, they realize that the climb was worth it. The view over the city is breathtaking, even despite the cloudy sky. All the grey and blue evokes a feeling of belonging in Sehun. He can’t see the waves breaking, but he can hear their distant sound carried by the sea wind. Then the drizzle comes, and they decide to go back down.

* * *

 

Holding Junmyeon's hand becomes the highlight of his week. Woonjin is busy- he has band practice, homework and chores, and Sehun is left alone, with nothing to do, really. Time flies by fast.

Next time he sees Junmyeon it's already dark outside, it's winter and he has spent the whole day outside in the snow, playing dumb games with Woojin and his friends.

The Kim's living room is dark except for a small fire in the hearth, its flickering light playing gently over the elder man's face. He's holding a book in his lap with a finger stuck between its pages to mark his place. When Sehun enters, Junmyeon looks up, his glasses slipping down his nose an inch further.

"Hello, Sehun. Nice to see you,” he greets him, pasting a smile onto his handsome face.

Sehun feels his lips curve with the first real smile in a long time.

"Hey."

Removing his cloak, Sehun drapes it over one arm of the chair, and sits down without grace or artifice. His legs hurt from running around all day and he's tired. His white shirt stretches over his broad chest, wet and almost transparent as it sticks to the muscle-banded surface of his abdomen.

Junmyeon sighs and gives him a look. A big brother look. An I know best look.

"Shouldn't you be at home now?"

Sehun shrugs. He has a big exam coming up and Junmyeon is indeed right, he should be tucked in and deeply asleep now but he couldn't care less. School is the last thing on his mind lately.

“Shouldn’t you be in China now?” he retorts, and watches how a smile appears on Junmyeon face. Soft and gentle, yet shy.

“You’re right about that,” the man admits. “I’m not really sure what I’m doing here.” He falls silent for a moment and Sehun feels as if there’s more, lingering behind Junmyeon’s teeth, a marriage, a house, a ring, a baby, a woman.

“You see, Sehun,” Junmyeon then breaks the silence and leans forward, his blue eyes searching for his. “It’s funny, really. I’ve never really learned how to miss things. People. Places. I moved around a lot as a kid. And always, really. I’ve been on the move my entire life.”

He stops, lets it sink in. Sehun is nervous, his fingers start to shake so he puts them under his thighs, sits on them, shutting them up. It’s been too long that he has heard Junmyeon’s voice, has watched how those plump lips move, how his teeth scrape them, how the tongue glides over.

“I’ve been to Japan for the past weeks. Had a big job.” Junmyeon leans back again, tucks at his tie, plays with it for a while, takes a deep breath. Rattling in, rattling out.

“And for the first time in my life I think I have some glimmering of an idea of what people mean when they say they miss.. something.” Something doesn’t sound like something. It sounds like a pumping heart, like blood and flesh, like shaky hands, and blonde hair, and muscles, veins, eyes.

“I tried to find out what it is exactly,” Junmyeon mumbles. “I didn’t miss my apartment or my neighbours, not my friends… not even my family. I didn’t miss my bed, or my routine or my favourite restaurants.”

Sehun wants to believe it’s him. He wants Junmyeon to open his mouth and say it, wants it so badly he would go on his knees and rip himself apart if it would make it come true.

“I truly ached for something, in a way I don’t think I ever have before. I kept thinking it would be nice to talk to you, or maybe call you… My coworkers talk about that, about calling home and talking to their loved ones. It sounds nice.”

Junmyeon makes another nervous break, his eyes roaming over Sehun’s face, trying to make sense of something,- again _something,_ which is so raw and undefined. Sehun wants to curse out loud because god knows what something is.

“I hope you’re not angry at me, for not doing so. I really don’t know how I’d do it. I’ve never really learned how to behave when you miss something. What would I even say? I really don’t know.”

Sehun reaches out, presses his fingers against soft, cold skin, embracing Junmyeon’s hand fully. “It’s okay.” He swallows hard. “I’m not angry, really.”

Junmyeon is quiet for a moment, his dark eyes searching Sehun's. The latter is not sure what he’s looking for or what he’s thinking.

"You and Woojin," he says finally. "You're hanging out quite a lot, aren't you?"

Sehun nods. He's not sure how to answer the question. He has never really thought much about his friendship with Woojin. It's not like Woojin is his best friend, he's just his only friend,- well, besides Junmyeon but Sehun isn't sure if he can count the elder as a friend because why in the world would Junmyeon want to be friends with him?

"I guess," he eventually responds, clearly struggling to remain outwardly calm.

Junmyeon hesitates, his lips pinched as though he has something to say but can’t find the nerve to spit it out. "So, you are pretty close?"

Everything Sehun can offer is a light shrug. Junmyeon pauses, and looks at him cautiously, with the same inquisitive look Sehun can’t read.

"You are nothing like him," he says finally. "Like Woojin," Junmyeon clarifies.

“I know," Sehun mumbles. "He’s charismatic and popular, and I’m awkward. He always knows what to say and is so affectionate and kind. I am cold.”

Junmyeon frowns. "No, that’s not what I meant,” he says.

“It’s okay, Junmyeon, really. You don’t have to try to make me seem like a better person,” Sehun replies and looks away, out of the window into the darkness. Junmyeon’s fingers find his cheek, graze the pale skin as if Sehun is made out of something delicate, and Junmyeon fears he might shatter.

Before Sehun can react, Junmyeon leans back again, mumbling something about work.

For while they just sit like this, Junmyeon absorbed in his work and Sehun watching him, the heat burning in his cheeks and the familiar feeling of tightness in his groin.

"Junmyeon," Sehun eventually chokes out. The elder looks up, their eyes meet, and Sehun can feel the blood pulse in his temples. His heart dispenses a series of hard thumps before settling into a fast rhythm. "You are always working."

The elder just shrugs, his attention back on the papers in front of him. Sehun leans forward, takes off Junmyeon's glasses and smiles shyly.

The man's eyes grow soft. He looks exhausted, and without really thinking, Sehun combs the dark locks to the side. He leans in and stops short about four quarters of the way to Junmyeon’s mouth, pleased when the man doesn’t pull away.

Junmyeon swallows harshly, eyes glossy as he gazes at Sehun. "I'm alright, don't worry,” he says, a crack in his voice. He’s close enough that Sehun could reach out and kiss him. The silence is thick and heavy, the only sound he can hear is the thumping pulse of his racing heart.

"Junmyeon," he mumbles, his cheeks warming up. "Are you lonely?"

The man blinks, eyes wide with shock and face draining of blood. Before he can manage to answer, Sehun leans forward, hesitates for a moment and then continues to move. His legs softly brush against Junmyeon's and as the elder doesn't back away, Sehun gently presses his lips against the pink mouth.

Sehun knows it’s wrong the instant their lips meet. Because nothing would ever equal the perfection of Junmyeon's lips against his own. He is ruined for life. God help him, Sehun doesn't care. Junmyeon's lips are cool, but his mouth is warm and the kiss soft. Heat begins to rise in Sehun's blood, his hands are trembling as the panic prickles over his skin.

What if Junmyeon hates this? What if he thinks Sehun is gross and finds the idea of kissing him repulsive? What if he wants him to stop?

Then Junmyeon kisses him back, pressing his mouth softly against his, and the panic fades at the edges. It feels so right, so good, so wonderful. Sehun’s senses are overwhelmed with the taste of Junmyeon, the smell of his pale skin and the feel of his warm breath against his face. He needs this, needs the man against his every being, needs Junmyeon to know how much he has wanted this for so long.

He sighs against Junmyeon's lips, rubs his nose against the latter's and let's his tongue glide over his lower lip. Before he can do anything else, Junmyeon starts to pull away, lets his hands drop to Sehun's sides, breathing heavily as if struggling for control.

“We shouldn’t,” the man mumbles, softly shaking his head.

Sehun blinks a few times, a bit confused as to why those soft lips aren’t on his anymore. Kissing Junmyeon is nice, and he wants to do it again. Multiple times, if possible. He draws in a breath, holds it for a moment before he speaks again. “But I want to. A lot. ”

Junmyeon’s eyes search his, waiting for some kind of approval. It’s almost painful to see the man so insecure, so incredibly unsure. Without hesitation, Sehun maneuvers himself onto Junmyeon’s lab. He presses himself close, leaning forward until his mouth is just above the elder’s lips. Before Sehun can lose his nerves, he leans in and curves his hand around the back of Junmyeon’s neck to draw him closer.

He sees the man’s eyes flutter close right before their lips press together firmly. Junmyeon’s mouth opens almost immediately, granting Sehun’s tongue entrance. While Sehun explores the inside of Junmyeon’s mouth he can feel how the man is still holding back. Instead of kissing back, he's just softly following Sehun’s movements, still so hesitant and controlled. Sehun proceeds to kiss him, now hard and desperate, not wanting this to stop. Their mouths slide together, hotter and wetter than before, and Sehun’s heart skips a beat in his chest.

Junmyeon's hands start to move up and down Sehun's thigh, then his fingers drift past his jeans and under his shirt. The touch leaves pulses of pleasure on the bare skin, the caress sending shivers all over Sehun's body. Overwhelmed by his feelings, Sehun doesn’t notice one of his teeth catching on Junmyeon’s bottom lip until the latter makes a muffled noise of surprise. Sehun’s teeth drag softly against vulnerable skin. He likes the feel of Junmyeon’s soft, pouty lip and bites down again, softly sucking the lip inside of his mouth. Junmyeon shivers hard, fingers digging into Sehun’s arm.

“Fuck,” he says, so quiet that Sehun barely hears him. He quickly pulls the shirt over Sehun's head and strokes over the boy’s chest, his abdomen, and lower, sending tingles flying through Sehun’s body. Sehun's hands wander too, slipping underneath Junmyeon's sweater, the heat in his body rising as he runs his fingers along the man's firm abdomen and up to his chest.

"Need you," Sehun helplessly sobs and pulls at Junmyeon's sweater so their bare stomachs press against each other. He feels Junmyeon's hardness against his crotch now, and grinds down.

"Sehun," Junmyeon moans, voice thick and heavy with arousal as he pulls him impossibly closer. "Oh god, fuck."

The elder's hands are shaking now, and Sehun enjoys the impact he has on the latter, and grinds down once again, pressing his hips into Junmyeon, arching his back. He doesn’t even know what he’s doing or why, but it feels better than anything he has ever done before in his life, so it can’t be that bad, right?

He wants Junmyeon to only see him, to only think about him, here and now in this very moment. He wants to make Junmyeon feel good, to forget his work, his problems,- everything. He wants the elder to be focus on him, to lose himself in the touch and relax.

"I’m yours," he breathes out as he presses his fingers into Junmyeon's tense shoulders. The man makes a noise that Sehun has no idea how to interpret and surges forward for another kiss.

Junmyeon’s hands come to rest at his waist as he leans up to kiss Sehun's throat, letting out a mewling sound as he tastes the boy. He licks and hums against the pale skin, the sound mixing with Sehun's ragged breathing. Junmyeon cups his ass and squeezes the cheeks, causing Sehun to shiver from the touch.  

"Please," Sehun begs, rubbing against the firm body, grinding his hips faster to get more friction.

Sehun moans as they sink onto the sofa.

"This?" Junmyeon asks as he straddles Sehun's hips, rocking over his hard dick, painfully slow, rubbing his own length against it. "This, Sehunnie?"

Strangling sounds escape Sehun's mouth as he tries to say something- _anything_ \-  and fails. Junmyeon's chest is heaving, his breath staggered. He stares into Sehun’s eyes with an expression that the boy has never seen before. He doesn’t have an idea what it means, but somehow it makes him flustered.

The man scoots back, hooks his fingers around Sehun's jeans and pulls them down, then places both of his hands on the milky thighs, squeezing them harshly. He parts the legs, spreading them wide, and rubs his thumb against the skin.

Sehun’s erection is clearly noticeable through the thin fabric of his boxers. Blood rushes into Sehun’s cheeks. He has never been with a guy before, not even with a girl and he feels so exposed and inexperienced. Junmyeon is an adult after all who must have been with a lot of people. What if he notices that it’s Sehun’s first time? And what if he will laugh about him and lose interest?

"Fuck," Junmyeon breathes out, his eyes dark with desire. "Sehunnie, do you even know how beautiful you are?"

Sehun shakes his head nervously, unsure if Junmyeon is joking or not. The man grasps his right nipple in one hand and takes his left nipple in his mouth as he lets his free hand explore the rest of Sehun’s body, from his waist to his stomach, hips and legs.

His hand run over Sehun’s stomach until he reaches his boxers. Sehun gasps when Junmyeon rubs against the outline of his dick, and the latter glances up sharply, like he's worried he's gone too far.

Sehun’s cheeks heat up. “It’s okay,” he mumbles, and smiles shyly at the elder. He doesn’t mind Junmyeon touching him there.

Junmyeon leans in again, eyes half-lidded and lips spit-shined and red. He tilts his head to press chaste kisses to Sehun’s lips, and Sehun can feel the man smiling against his mouth.

Their lips part and Junmyeon stills completely as he gazes at Sehun’s neck; exposed now, it’s bent forwards slightly, as if in supplication. He leans in and kisses him there, drags his tongue over cold, soft skin and bites down. Sehun lets out a small breath at the pressure, so subtle that it is felt rather than heard.

When Junmyeon takes off Sehun’s boxers with his free hand, Sehun covers his burning face with shaking hands. He draws in a sharp breath when Junmyeon grasps his hard dick, freeing it from its confinement. Inexperienced, he knows little of where to put his hands, his limbs, but finds himself clutching Junmyeon, wanting to please, lost in the new sensations.

Sehun hears himself gasp, and realizes, with horror, that his eyes have filled with tears.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, "I'm sorry. I don't know..."

Junmyeon puts his arms around Sehun’s waist, kissing the tears that run down his cheeks, murmuring to him. “I will make you feel good,” he promises, and lowers himself onto Sehun’s body.

He licks the underside of Sehun’s erection, trailing his wet tongue along the tip before taking him fully in his mouth. When he presses his lips together, Sehun lets out a low growl. Junmyeon’s mouth feels like heaven, warm and wet and so wonderful tight.

Sehun reaches down to push the strands of hair out of Junmyeon’s face, hand resting atop of his head. Junmyeon looks beautiful like this, cheeks rosy and eyes blown dark with lust as he hallows his cheeks out, sucking as hard as his cheeks would allow.

Junmyeon feels so incredibly good and Sehun goes too deep, hitting the back of his throat, causing Junmyeon to gag. Salvia escapes around his lips, dribbling down the shaft as Junmyeon’s throat constricts around the intruding member. Junmyeon pauses to catch breath and licks around the sensitive head, flattening his tongue against the slit and tasting Sehun’s precum before swallowing him whole again.

Sehun can feel Junmyeon moaning around his dick, sending vibrations that cause shivers to send down his spine. He can’t believe that this is really happening. The most beautiful, intelligent, funny and amazing guy in the whole world is sucking his dick.

When Junmyeon sucks particularly hard, Sehun’s head falls back in ecstasy. His girth stretches Junmyeon’s lips as he drives himself further into the warm mouth. He completely forgets where he is and what he’s doing, totally overwhelmed by the feeling of the man’s mouth around his dick.

Junmyeon clutches the base, working his tongue around Sehun’s length before he pulls away, letting Sehun’s dick fall out of his mouth. His hands are on Sehun’s ass now, first squeezing, then spreading it.

There's a shift in the dip of the mattress, and Sehun can feel something being drawn over his hole. Air rushes into his lungs. Junmyeon pushes and there are two fingers sliding inside of him. The pain makes him dizzy and leaves him helplessly moaning as he presses his eyes shut.

Junmyeon doesn't wait for him to adjust and starts to thrust, sliding fully in and then pulling back until the tips of his fingers tease the opening, before thrusting deep again. Clenching down on the digits inside of him, Sehun can’t escape the feeling of it. He loves the stinging pain, loves how full Junmyeon's fingers make him feel and he wants more, want's the elder to ruin him fully.

"Don’t stop, please!" he chokes out as Junmyeon presses another finger inside, stretching him painfully. His toes curl as pleasure rolls through him like thunder. Junmyeon spreads him open, Sehun’s muscles twitching around him as though to pull Junmyeon’s finger deeper while desperate little sounds escape him.

The elder slaps his thighs, grabs his butt with his free hand, and the burning of his skin sends shivers up Sehun's spine. His dick is fully hard now and he whimpers, breath ragged and jaw hanging open loosely.

Sehun is trembling, on display. He has never felt more exposed in his life. He watches as Junmyeon pulls down his pants and his underwear, exposing his hard on. For some reason the sight of the throbbing member makes Sehun feel less nervous. Junmyeon seems to enjoy this just as much.

Fingers slide down, over Sehun’s ass and between his cheeks. He lets out a desperate whine, thighs trying to shift close before Junmyeon gets a hold of them and seizes them, pushing them even wider than before.  

“Sehun, are you sure?” Junmyeon asks gently.

Sehun nods, letting his head sink back into the mattress. He wants this more than anything else. Nothing seems to matter to Sehun anymore, all he feels is that burning in his loins, and a single urge sweeps over him, blanking out any other thought. “Please,” he whines.

The man leans forward, and takes his dick into his hand and softly brushes it against the pink hole, reigniting Sehun’s nerves. Sliding one hand behind Sehun’s back, pushing his chest up, Junmyeon latches onto the boy's nipples, aggressively sucking the sensitive flesh, lashing at it with his tongue.

“Junmyeon, please!” Sehun begs, his voice rising to a whining pitch. Junmyeon’s dick is hot against Sehun’s virgin hole, and he can feel the ooze of Junmyeon’s precum slicking up his ass. Impatience takes hold, and Sehun pushes back, craving the feel of him.

When Junmyeon finally enters him, Sehun cries out. The man takes his time, easing into Sehun slowly, spreading him open around his thick dick, watching as the boy takes every inch of him.

Sehun’s hips piston back and forth, harder and faster as Junmyeon loses himself in the chase of pleasure. A deep moan rises from his chest as his whole length disappears inside of Sehun, the boy’s hole finally giving in to the continuous pounding.

Junmyeon spreads him open, Sehun’s muscles twitching around him as though to pull him deeper while desperate little sounds escape his mouth, unable to get the breath for anything more.

He doesn’t make much noise as Junmyeon rides him, some breathy little sighs when the man cants his hips a certain way or when he slides down to press their chests together, rocking back idly.

They both come at the same time; Sehun onto Junmyeon’s chest and the elder into Sehun’s hole.

There’s silence for a moment, and Junmyeon flops over onto his back and listens to the soft sounds of Sehun’s breathing mixing with the quiet sounds of the night.

 

* * *

 

When Sehun wakes up, it’s still dark outside, the morning chill and the sky a washed out grey. The splash of raindrops on the window panes make him shiver and he realizes he’s naked, and alone.

_Sehun,_

_I don’t know what to say. Maybe I shouldn’t say anything at all. I’m sorry for everything I did._

_I still remember the first time that I saw you. The air got stuck in my lungs til I got light headed. You were so beautiful in the kitchen light. Like an angel you stood there, with your tender features, the sweetness of your your voice, the dance of life within your eyes. Beyond your face I saw my own reflection. No matter what I try, I can’t erase this moment. Your presence leaves a gaping hole at the core of my soul. I tried to fill it but I couldn't._

_I often imagine falling asleep in your arms, as the darkness envelopes us and the cities light up and we feel like the night is infinite. In my dreams we’re going to bars and sit in a corner together until we’re drunk enough to dance and then sneak off the have sex against the bathroom stall wall. I show you my hometown in china and we explore everything, find new places to eat at and restaurants we love so much we become regulars there. On lazy days we go see a movie and cuddle at the back of the cinema. I take you with me when I travel and we wander around like tourists, make pictures and duck into coffee shops with it gets cold or we’re exhausted. When the weather is nice we take walks and I hold your hand and we talk for hours on end. In my dreams I go to new cities, states, countries with you by my side._

_When I woke up this morning you were still asleep. I wanted to wake you up but you slept so deeply and soundlessly I was afraid of you being awake in my arms again._

_I love you. I think if there’s anything that will last forever, it’s that._

_Junmyeon_

 

**Author's Note:**

> I really have been missing seho lately so here's a quick drabble I wrote. I also want to add that I didn't specifically state how old Sehun is when he's intimate with Junmyeon, so you are free to imagine whatever you want.


End file.
